


Baby 'cause you dance to the sound of my heart beats

by thisloveisradiant



Series: We find love in every universe [6]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Streetdance AU, street dancer!Yata, synesthesia!Fushimi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisloveisradiant/pseuds/thisloveisradiant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hm~” Fushimi chuckled. “Actually, I think I’ll write a love song out of your dance.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby 'cause you dance to the sound of my heart beats

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt on Tumblr by imaginesarumi: Au where Misaki is a street dancer and Saruhiko is a passer-by who was asked to participate in Misaki’s dance.

Fast, heavy hip-hop music blasted from a worn-out stereo, flashes of cameras and fake disco lights sparked everywhere. The crowd yelled like crazy and stomped their feet to the beats, drunk on the joy of youth, all the while cheering on the performing street dancers.

Fushimi frowned.

He hated breakdance - any kind of street style dancing, for that matter. It was too rugged, too blunt, full of graceless movements and arrogant postures. And above all, it never produced good sounds. Only violent, ear-stabbing noises that were uncomfortably close to battle cries.

Yet here he was, lured by the faint echoes of a heart-stirring melody. He had been walking through the busy sidewalk, trying not to see nor hear too much, when the oddly captivating melody had reached his ears through the vibration in the air, and before Fushimi knew it he had already followed that string of sounds. Which led him to a street dancing competition, strangely enough - it was quite different from what he had expected.

“Well, let see…” He murmured, sweeping a quick look over the scene. “What should be the source, hm?”

The circle of audience was out of question. Their moves were sloppy at best and downright horrible at worst, making all the annoying thud-thud sounds like some fools punching a wall nonstop or whatever.

At the center of the crowd, three people were dancing and throwing provoking poses at who seemed like a short ginger boy of the opposite side. Oh, three on one? Fushimi didn’t know much about street dancing fight, but he had a knack that it was kind of unfair.

These B-boys weren’t as crappy as Fushimi had first thought. They did a quick synchronized 6-step and performed a powerful twirl on one hand, then to finish the show, one of them spun a wide Windmill and the others backflipped across his swinging legs, changing the dance into some sorts of human skipping. From their dance came the sounds of amusing drums of fingers against a metal bar, and sometimes there were crude noises of a sharp blade cutting into a rock shrieked in. A little tacky and flawed - but not entirely bad overall, Fushimi mused. Still, they weren’t the strangely sensational sounds he was after. Where was it? Where should it be?

“Yata-san! Come on, show them hell!” The cheering crowd shouted loudly behind the short boy, urging him to step up the challenge. “Work your magic!”

“Hah, right! Ready to be burnt, punks!” Yata yelled back while striding to the center of the makeshift dance floor in only a single second, and began to dance with a bright smile playing wild on his lips.

The first move took Fushimi’s breath away.

Just a simple warm-up footwork. Yet, it was like Yata was setting off fire under his feet. Fushimi could hear the sparks of flame coming to life out of his imagination, so clearly like never before, almost as if he was able to see the fire with his own eyes.

The beats dropped and sprang up, with them Yata rode the untamed burning blazes nimbly and dazzlingly, as if the dance was poured to the brim with the ginger’s very life force. Up, down, up, to the left, down, spin, up and up then to the right, twirl and jump and flip, difficult moves continuously be showed to the world. Oh, and how savory their sounds! They were composing a melody about the wind and the fire all on their own! A flash of the redhead’s hands created a fierce ring in the air, while a kicking leg upside down vibrated the entire atmosphere with something akin to a gust of gale blowing through a summer forest. Strong. Raw. Fervent. Pure.

Beautiful.

Fushimi swallowed a breath. Watching this, hearing this…made he feel like dancing.

He had never ever felt like dancing in his whole life.

Until this very moment.

As Fushimi wormed his way through the crowd in a trance-like state of mind, Yata smirked and performed an incredible one-handed Air Flare. Whip – whip – swish, the street dancer swung his legs up and contorted his small but firm body to hop and spin rounds and rounds, one hand and the other kissing the dusty floor by turns as quick as lighting. It was as if a storm was devouring Yata – No. Oh, no, Yata, it actually was him who was wrecking a flaming whirlpool from his very soul. And with a dynamic landing with both feet stamping on the ground, the redhead flashed a cocky grin at his opponents as well as the roaring audience.

The music slowed down, indicating that time was running out. Fushimi felt a rush of  dismay running through his veins, fearful of the fact that this heavenly experience would end too soon.

(It would happen eventually, anyway.)

He clicked his tongue and shifted a foot backward a little, about to turn away.

“Kamamoto!” Yata suddenly yelled, making Fushimi stop dead in mid-movement in surprise.

“Yes-!!” Then out of a blue, a fat guy stumbled over Fushimi in order to get to the battlefield, only to trip on the latter’s hesitant’s foot. “Woah!!! S-Sorry Yata-san!” Having no idea about what was happing, Fushimi noticed Yata had been running at top speed toward him, all narrow eyes and determined frowns.

“Tsk! You! Stand still!”                                            

“Wha –?“

The sound of something clicking into place. A key, maybe. And the sound of something unlocked.

These were what visited Fushimi’s ears as Yata jumped so high while flipping half a circle in mid-air, with a hand placing harshly on Fushimi’s right shoulder for leveling fulcrum, and balanced himself in a perfect Freeze – upside down, 4-style leg pose, straight back like an arrow. Bright hazel eyes stared down, locking with Fushimi’s azure own, and for a brief instant it felt like a new star had just been born somewhere between the depths of their mind and just behind their pupils. Strong heart beats, that much Fushimi was certain, rang sweetly from this hazardously unusual trick. God – no one had ever produced such fascinating sounds …

The strange phenomenon lasted for only two and a half seconds, though. As the last beat of the music died down, Yata greeted the ground again, completing his dance. The crowd cheered loudly. The opposite team smiled helplessly. Everybody knew who the winner was.

“That’s great, Yatagarasu. It’s our total loss.”

“Haha, damn right! It’s fun dancing with you three, though.”

“Yata-san! Teach me the Air Flare please!”

“Amazing as usual! Next time you should do the Critical!”

“Alright! I’ll master it in no time!”

Fushimi waited a little for the chatters to die down, before clicking his tongue and approaching the street dancer. He had made up his mind.

“Oh, it’s you, new face. Sorry for the sudden jump. Bet you got a fright, huh?” Yata looked up, casually talking to Fushimi as if they were old friends.

“Your dance creates beautiful sounds. May I write them down properly?” Words spilled out of Fushimi’s mouth, even though he had intended to go for a quick self-introduction at first. Noticing Yata’s confused face, Fushimi coughed lightly to cover up his embarrassment at the stupid mistake. “Ah, my name is Fushimi Saruhiko. I’m a composer who has auditory synesthesia.”

“Audio s-synethisa what?” Yata tilted his head in utter puzzlement. The simple action stirred a tiny cute sound that was best described as a match being striked against the match box’s side.

“Auditory synesthesia. It’s a perceptual condition when my senses of hearing and seeing are cross-activated. As in, I hear sounds from movements.”

“Really? That – That’s just so freaking cool!” The redhead exclaimed blatantly, eyes sparkling and arms swinging up and down, just like an oversized kid. “What did you hear from my dance? Is it good? Oh my, and you’re really a composer? Like, the real deal? You’re gonna write me a song?”

‘Hm. I need to hear you dancing again without extraneous noises, though. ”

“Bring it on! I’m ready when you are! Ah – but what will the song be about? You better make it all cool and awesome and badass since it comes from me as an inspiration!”

“Hm~” Fushimi chuckled. “Actually, I think I’ll write a love song out of your dance.”

Fushimi had never composed a song about love, but, yes, a love song would definitely fit.





End file.
